


Needy

by satinrubber



Series: Fucked Up Sansby Week - Submissions [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Dubious Consent, FUSW, M/M, Other, Somnophilia, Timeline bs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:54:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26670049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satinrubber/pseuds/satinrubber
Summary: Grillby wakes up to something strange.
Relationships: Grillby/Sans (Undertale)
Series: Fucked Up Sansby Week - Submissions [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1940572
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	Needy

**Author's Note:**

> This is set when our faves are all being rode hard by Flowey’s manic resets. Sans especially so, given what we see in his workshop. Just wanted to play around with the idea of remembering, but not. Loneliness, and terrible déjà vu. 
> 
> A short drabble written for FUSW 2020.
> 
> Please mind the archive warning; although it's not entirely accurate regarding what the characters feel here, I wanted to include it just in case anybody is cautious about that sort of thing.

"We won't remember this," he says. A whispered absolution over Grillby’s lips. There is a weight on top of him, solid yet giving. A hand moves from his cheek down his chest and Grillby sighs, content with the dream. His knees fall apart. Like it'd been done a million times before, his half-asleep body is soon coaxed to form something to kiss, to lick-

Grillby's voice hitches, stuck on a delirious protest. There is soft hush, then a palm that smoothes circles over his belly and hip. Yet, the pleasure waking his body starts to give to panic. _"...ans?"_ the elemental's sleepy flames fight to get the word out. 

"Please," comes his voice again, this time slightly strangled. "Let me have this." It halts the hand that had been reaching for his glasses on the bedside table. Grillby lets it fall.

He’s on top of him again, though Grillby can't see his face. It's hidden in the juncture between his neck and shoulder, branding him with kisses that make the elemental's fire kick up in bursts. At the introduction of teeth, he makes a sound that's greedily taken by a mouth over his own. His core flutters. It's easy, so easy, to give in to this dream. Grillby feels his legs spread by knees, bared to the magic that soon presses against his heat. 

It's devastatingly familiar. 

There's another whisper, an apology _,_ then the lush burn of being filled. "I just _needed-"_ his voice breaks into a moan, or perhaps a sob. It is strange to hear when he's being fucked so sweetly. Like a lover.

Grillby feels his arms moving of their own accord to wrap tightly around Sans' back. He breathes him in. And that.. It makes his flames shudder and eyes sting. He keeps them squeezed shut, hidden under the blaze, as if he dares a look he’ll wake up right then. Variances of _I miss you_ —past present, future—are chanted against Grillby's jaw, despite the fact he'd been in his bar only last week. It makes no sense. Yet, Grillby tips his chin and catches Sans' mouth in another searing kiss. It is only broken to say, "...I know."

He shivers in pleasure as Sans comes inside him. Cool like the void, exactly how Grillby thought it would feel. A deep satisfaction he can't place leaves him floating. That is, until Sans' mouth closes over him, tongue shoving the dripping excess of magic back inside. Grillby hates that he is pulled over the edge so easily. In what feels like no time at all, skilled fingers make his flames cry out desperately for air. A hand pets through them gently for what feels like hours after.

Grillby wakes up cold. 

He really needs to redo the insulation of the eastern wall. Maybe Sans could pick up a few things for him the next time he’s out of town. The thought whips the elemental’s flames back to him from where they had been rolling off the bed, nearly giving him whiplash. He sits up completely and shakes his head a little. It feels awfully stuffy inside; Grillby should open a window. That odd feeling, that wrongness, sticks with him as he goes through the motions of his morning routine. It’s enough of a bother that Red Bird says something not even a minute after sitting down at the bar. Grillby only nods.

One look at Sans and he easily brushes off his idea from this morning. The monster had only just started to really open up with him. A monster from Hotland, the Capital, and now here, just like him. Sans just got that job as a sentry too, so he would likely be busy. Grillby hides his mouth away. He'll just put in a delivery instead.


End file.
